What do you do in face of destruction?
by darandomninja
Summary: The answer: "If you're a nation, you stay strong for the rest of your people." A short fanfic of when America bombed and leveled the Philippines towards the end of WWII. I apologize for any historical mistakes and such.


A lone nation nation stood in the middle of a field, blankly staring at the rubble before her, the remains of the once proud city, now leveled down to the ground. Out in the distance, an armada of military planes flew past the town below, as if the pilots weren't bothered by their actions. She remembered the pain she had to go through every time the bombs made contact with the ground. She cringed and screamed repeatedly, feeling a shot of pain in her arm, leg, hand.

She spotted something shiny sticking up from the ground, in the midst of the once proud building, willing, beckoning her forward. She bent down and stretched out her arm to grab it when something sharp sliced her palm. She quickly drew her hand back, the blood slowly oozing out.

She inched closer to the object, curiosity overpowering her common sense. She took away the debris and dug the ground around it, hoping it would make it easier to take the object out from the earth. With caution, she removed the object to find it was a shard of glass, perhaps once belonging to a window from the fallen skyscraper. But glass doesn't rust, yet this shard had something dry and crude on it's surface. With sudden realization, she dropped the shard, letting it fall to the ground with a loud "thud".

Her instincts and her curiosity was in a heated battle, but her desire to know quickly overpowered the other. She slowly turned around to the nearby pile of large, heavy pieces of rubble. What caught her attention was a small plush doll in a figure of a girl. But under closer inspection, it contained small, sharp holes, as if it was gripped onto so tightly that the person's fingernails dug punctured the doll's surface. And the dark, crumbly spots that mottled the object.

She stepped back, stricken horror evident in her face, as she saw a dark, crimson circle surrounding the doll. She didn't dare to look into the cracks of the rubble, terrified of what she would find.

Sudden flashbacks of the past flew past her mind. Women hid in their own homes while clinging to their loved ones, afraid to venture out onto the streets, terrified soldiers would rape them. Wailing babies being cruelly thrown up in the air in front of their families, only to fall down to a sharp knife or spear to forever be silent. People digging many underground holes and hid in them as they hid from the world above, filled with the Japanese unit, marching forward, their eyes showing no guilt, nor concern. The few brave citizens who decided to rebel against the Japanese, only to be betrayed and have their life ended by a rifling squad where they stood. The cries and screams of the hundreds of people gathered at a church, only to be burned alive.

The memories and emotions that flooded her was too much to bear. She ran away from the place, keeping her eyes on the ground at all times. She reached the edge of the city, only then lifting her head to see the total damage of her beloved city. She felt an urge to cry, to curl up into a ball and weep for those lost. But she resisted, rebelled against these cowardly emotions. She was Luzviminda Batongbakal , a nation who had to stand strong, who had to set an example for her country, her people. Taking one last look, she turned around and walked away, wiping her fallen tears away. For she knew, with this last act, they would soon be free of this war, and they will have a chance to rebuild their cities and their hope.

* * *

**Author Notes from moi!~**

Short, but out of impulse, I wrote it. **Not sure if it is historically/accurately correct, so I apologize if I wrote it incorrectly**. According to my father {who was born/raised/and studied in the Philippines}, he said that towards the end of WWII, America bombed and leveled Manila, which was declared an open-city, where there is to be no fighting. And the weird part was that there were no Japanese Soldiers in Manila. So up to now, the Philippines is wondering why America bombed their precious city. If I am incorrect, please don't hesitate to tell me. **I'm just writing this story according to my dad.**

In the beginning, the Philippines didn't want to join the war due to fear of property damage and such, but in the end, was forced to join. And the part with the babies being thrown to the air before being shot/ or killed in some way is true. Same with digging underground holes and hid in them, the people being burned alive in a church, everything in that paragraph is true. These information was taken from my grandmother, who was an eye-witness to these events.

One more thing I would like to add. As to what she would have seen inside the cracks of the rubble would be a dead, cut open little girl, probably no older than 7 years old. This girl is from my imagination, not something taken from a history site or whatever. Anyway, I planned that Luzviminda would actually look into the crack, find her, and such, but I got too creeped out writing it so I deleted it. At least it didn't ruin the fic, right?

Please don't forget to review. **I welcome the harshest criticism there is to offer from you dear readers. **Thank you again for reading my fic.


End file.
